


Yaldabaoth

by HorizonTheTransient



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Altpower, CYOA, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorizonTheTransient/pseuds/HorizonTheTransient
Summary: Listen. You saw the tags. You clicked the link. I'm not apologizing for shit.
Comments: 55
Kudos: 132





	1. Chapter 1

My name is Taylor Hebert, and right now I'm  _ really _ glad my mom is dead.

I have two million words of story I don't want to read, and if she was still alive, she'd smack my wrist with a ruler for not reading enough, and complain that I went outside too much, and I was spending too much time with Emma, and-

Ow. That wasn't a fun memory.

Where was I?

No, seriously, where  _ was _ I? One moment I'm being shoved into a locker- not known for their generous legroom- and next I'm sitting here in a featureless grey void, with a book the size of my torso in front of me.

"Hello?" I asked. "Anyone there?"

**"Yes."** a booming yet strangely nasally voice said.

"...Hi. Where... am I?"

**"Nowhere. Outside the world,"** the voice said.  **"My name is Robert. But you can call me ROB."** God, I could  _ feel _ the all-caps. How did he  _ do _ that?

"Okay..." I blinked a few times. "Uh. I... hate to be rude, but I don't want to impose on your hospitality any further, Rob, so uh. How do I leave?"

**"You read that entire book, start to finish,"** Rob said.  **"It's good."**

"...Really?" I asked.

**"The whole thing. No excuses."**

I grimaced.

**"Chop chop."**

"Does it come in a more convenient form factor?" I asked, before suddenly the book turned into a tablet. Fancy.

With nothing better to do, I picked up the tablet, and started reading.

"Hang on a minute," I said, scarcely two goddamn sentences in as I recognized a name.

**"Keep going."**

I did, warily now, until finally coming across  _ another _ name I recognized.

"Mr. Gladly? Madison Clements?" I asked. "Just what the hell are you trying to pull, here?"

**"This story-"**

"Titled 'Worm.'"

**"-is your life story. After a fashion. From your perspective, none of this has happened yet."**

"And you're making me read this  _ why?" _

**"Quoth Randall Munroe, 'I want to give you everything, just to see what you would do with it.'"**

"...I don't follow."

**"After you read the book, you get to fill out a form to decide what powers I'll give you. It's a do-over. Because I want to see what will happen."**

I blinked a few times. "...Really? That's  _ it?  _ That's your  _ entire _ motivation, here?"

**"ROB stands for Random Omnipotent Bastard. Yes, 'I want to see what would happen' is the entirety of my motivation."**

"...Wait, is  _ that _ why you're named Rob?"

**"Yes."**

"That's stupid."

**"Yes."**

"Do you have a name that isn't stupid?"

**"No. Get back to reading."**

I groaned.

\---

I pitched the tablet as hard as I could in a fit of pique. It infuriatingly refused to hit anything solid and shatter, instead landing softly on its back.

I curled up on myself and started to cry.

\---

I don't know how long it was before I started reading again. I don't know how long it took me to read the whole, sordid thing. Too long, at any rate, to judge by the fact I had to throw the tablet and then a tantrum many more times.

But eventually, I got to the end. Book!Me expressed her regrets. Wished she could've done things differently.

Yeah. I wish you did things differently too, bitch. What the fuck.

"I'm done," I said quietly.

**"Fantastic. Time for the form."**

I groaned quietly. Now I had to do  _ homework? _

The tablet replaced the story with an abominably poorly laid-out sequence of images that did not deserve to be images and made me want to gouge my own eyes out, if only because the eyes of the maker weren't available. Christ on a bike, what is this, a picture book for ants?

The first page was already filled out- apparently I was doing this on 'Hard' mode, which meant I had three points. The second page was the powers, and by god, this was torturous to read. Legend, Alexandria, and Eidolon I already more-or-less understood, but... Emperor of Man? Kaleidoscope? The hell does that  _ mean? _

After reading it, I still wasn't really sure what Emperor of Man meant, but I didn't really care for it. I had never been Warlord Skitter, and... well, frankly, I didn't  _ want _ to be.

No. What I wanted was to never have to hurt anyone. To... work with others. Be a little less actively miserable than I have been. I want a power that works in a team.

And for that? I chose Power Manipulation, the ability to modify, enhance, and even grant other people superpowers. Something that'd be  _ great _ on a team, but absolutely worthless on my own.

Then I chose Blank as my perk because I remembered the Simurgh existed, and also that "Contessa" woman, whoever the hell she was. Didn't want either of them showing up out of nowhere to ruin my day for whatever goddamn reason either of them did anything. I read all two million words, and I still wasn't entirely clear on what the hell happened. Whoever wrote that goddamn thing knew nothing about economy of words.

"It's done," I said quietly. "Let me out."

**"Go get 'em, Tiger. Knock 'em dead."**

I'll try not to.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, my head..."

"Taylor! Taylor, honey, are you okay?"

Wha- Dad? How did he- I was at school, then-

"Urgh." I groaned and tried to sit up. "How long was I out?"

"Eight days," he said, hovering over me, not sure if he should touch me or not. "It's Wednesday afternoon. How are you feeling?"

I blinked away the sleep in my eyes, and groaned some more, trying to figure out the answer to that question. We were in the hospital, as far as I could tell- they took my glasses off, so I couldn't tell all that far- and I had an IV or two in.

"Exhausted," I said. "Like someone made me read two million words and then take a pop quiz."

"...I'm sorry to hear that," Dad said, taken ever so slightly aback by the incredibly weird metaphor I'd just dumped on him.

I glanced at the tube in my arm.

"So, uh," I continued. "...Can we go home now?"

\---

The short answer was "not yet." The long answer was a laundry list of medical examinations- doctors got kinda worried when you go completely unconscious and unresponsive for a whole week, especially when they have no earthly idea  _ why. _

Fortunately, I  _ did _ get to go home eventually. Eventually.

When Dad and I got out of the car at home, it was pretty dark out. I was tired.  _ He _ was tired. And here I was, with powers I haven't told him about yet.

I was running into my first roadblock in operation "don't be a fuckup." Reading that story, it was so easy to say "that wasn't me, I never did those things, I'd never make those decisions." But here, faced with the question of being honest with my own dad, I was forced to confront the fact that yes, that  _ was _ me, and I  _ would _ make those decisions if I was in those situations.

Because... Dad doesn't  _ really _ feel like Dad anymore. He feels like  _ Danny, _ the adult man I happen to live with. And I feel like I can't trust him with the private details of my life anymore, no matter how much I scream at myself that I should anyways, that trying to keep him out was a terrible idea that'd go nowhere good.

"You okay, honey?" Dad asked. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Tired," I said, shaking my head.

I'd tell him in the morning. We both needed our sleep.

"Good night, Taylor."

"Night, Dad."

"I love you."

I swallowed. "...love you too."

\---

The morning came, and I still hadn't figured out how to tell my own dad that I had powers now. I shuffled through my morning routine- a little weakly, since being in bed for a week wasn't great for me- right up to the point of eating breakfast, where Dad had already prepared... was that french toast? Huh. For some completely unaccountable reason, I'd expected lasagna.

I shook that thought out of my brain, grabbing a plate and sitting down at the table.

"Thanks for the french toast," I said, picking up a slice.

"No problem," Dad said, sitting down with his own plate. "Your old man likes to feel useful every now and then, you know how it is."

I winced just a little, before groaning to cover it up. "Urgh, my head..."

"You okay?" Dad asked.

"Mrmph. Just... haven't had my tea yet." I felt a little bad about lying to him some more.

"I'll get some water going, you just eat," Dad promised, getting up.

I sighed, trying to think of some way,  _ any _ way, to rip the bandage off and get this off my chest.

Then I blinked, and grinned as Dad filled the kettle with water.

"So, Dad," I said. "Let's say you find a genie in a bottle, and instead of three wishes, he offers you a superpower. Any superpower you care to name. What would you pick?" I had ten 'charges' saved up- five a day, from yesterday and today. Glad to know that they accumulate, and aren't "use 'em or lose 'em."

"Hoo, boy, that's a toughie," he said. "Hrm... If I had to pick one... I'd say I want Eidolon's power."

My charges could only give middle-of-the-road powers. Crap.

"Besides Eidolon," I said. "You only get  _ one _ superpower, not 'every superpower, whenever you want them.'"

"Alright, alright," Dad said, chuckling. "I'd pick... hrm... I'd want something that could actually  _ help _ people, not just punch criminals and hope the problems go away. Something that could fix the economy- hell, I'd settle for something that'd just get that damn ferry running again."

"So, what, being super smart when it comes to infrastructure?" I asked.

"Could work," Dad said. "Maybe one of those, uh... Gadgeteers, they're called?"

"Tinkers," I corrected him.

"Tinkers, right. Maybe be one of those who does public transport and civic engineering?"

"You really think that'd help?" I asked.

"Maybe," Dad said with a shrug, setting the kettle on the stove. "Way I figure it, I go to the Protectorate, tell them about my power, and trick them into spending their oversized budget on things that actually matter to people because now city buses and trains and all the other actually useful public services have a cape attached to 'em."

"That could work," I allowed. "Would you  _ want _ to do that, though?"

"Honestly... a little, yeah," Dad allowed. "Like I said, I like to feel useful, and..." He grimaced a little. "Well. Suppose you're old enough to hear your old man complain about politics and his job, huh?"

That told me pretty much all I needed to know.

"My power," I began carefully. "is that I can give  _ other _ people powers."

"Hey, you said no powers that were ev-" He froze as I spent one of my charges to give him the power he asked for- he was now a Public Infrastructure Tinker, and felt his mind grow a few new libraries just absolutely chock  _ full _ of civic planning expertise.

I could take powers away, too, or even just change them. If he turned out to not like it, well... I could change that, if I needed.

"...Taylor," Dad said quietly. "That. That wasn't hypothetical, was it?"

I raised my shoulders and dropped my head a little. "Surprise," I said. "I'm a cape now. And... now you are too."


	3. Chapter 3

"Is that why you were out cold for a week?" Dad asked. "Is that... part of how powers work?"

"I... don't know if that's  _ standard," _ I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "But yeah, that...  _ was _ how I got my powers. It was... I had to read a book. A very long book. About me, and what I would go on to do, and..." I swallowed. "And I didn't like it. And so. So I'm trying something different, this time." Like talking to my dad and not cutting him off completely.

"I'm sorry, honey," Dad said, wringing his hands. "...Do you want a hug?"

I hate that I had to think about it, but after I did, I stood up from my chair and nodded.

It was a nice hug. Not that I had much to compare it to, though. The last hug I got was... was...

...oh god, I needed this.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

\---

"So... what now?" I asked.

"You're not going back to that  _ damn _ school, that's for sure," Dad said. "And I'm... filing my two week's notice, I guess, and going to interview with the Protectorate. And... Do you want to join the Wards?"

My first instinct was no, I didn't want to see another teenager again for as long as I lived, but then my mind flashed back to the last time I said that, and how that ended with me getting shot in the head.

"I... think that's probably a good idea, yeah," I said, nodding. "It can't be worse than Winslow."

"There might be an option to get you transferred to another school," Dad said. "If nothing else... Well, your old man's negotiated a contract or two in his time. I'll try my best."

"Thanks," I said. "For... everything."

"I'm your dad," he said. "It's what I'm for. Now..." He sighed. "Well, I officially took today off, but... Suppose I gotta go back into the office sooner or later. You wanna stay home and watch TV while I do all the paperwork, or would you prefer an unofficial 'take your daughter to work' day?"

On the one hand, solidarity and not being alone.

On the other hand, watching someone else do paperwork.

\---

"Taylor, I'd like to register a complaint about my new power," Dad said when he got back home, an hour later. "I can't get into my car without it reminding me about all the ways cars are hideously inefficient transportation, the whole time, and telling me I should be taking a bus instead."

"Oh, whoops," I said, getting up and off the couch. "Uh. I can fix that, probably?"

"Please do. I agree with the points it's making but I don't need to be reminded of them every time I think about cars."

"Sorry, my power didn't come with a very good instruction manual," I said as he walked into the living room. I reached out to his power and tweaked it. "I tried to make it more like... natural knowledge? Stuff you just naturally knew how to do. But that's kind of invasive, isn't it... Alright, should be fixed now. Now you've gotta consciously ask your power how to build something or solve a problem."

"Can you throw in a warning system for when my power thinks I'm being an idiot and solving the wrong problem?" Danny asked.

"I can try..." I tweaked it some more. "...Alright, should be good."

"Thank you. Let's see..." His face went sour. "And now it's telling me I'm a bad person for living in a house."

"How does that have anything to do with public infrastructure?" I asked.

"Population density," he explained. "I asked it to optimize my commute to work, and it told me to move into an apartment with a bus stop right out front, because the population density of a suburb is too low to support that kind of convenience, and forces us to rely on cars." Dad sighed. "Well. We tried. This power is just going to keep yelling at me, I guess. That's the price I pay."

"Sorry," I said. "I can change it some more? Give you a different power?"

"No, no, it's fine the way it is," Dad said, shaking his head. "Public infrastructure  _ really is _ something this city needs more of. Besides, at least this way they can't stuff me in spandex and call me a stupid name." He blinked. "At least, I hope they can't."

"Introducing the latest hero," I said in a bad approximation of a movie trailer voiceover, "He's big, he's mean, and he'll send you to your room without supper... He's  _ Dadman." _

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head, before moving on. "So... Taylor. I understand if you don't really want to talk about the particulars just yet, but... what are your limits, here?"

"I can change powers as much as I want," I said. "But, I can only make new ones using, uh... let's call them 'charges,' and I get five charges a day. But, I keep the ones I don't use, so right now I've got nine."

"Can you spend part of a charge?"

"No."

"What's a charge worth?"

"A mid-tier power," I said. "About a four or a five on the PRT's threat rating scale. Nothing  _ super _ impressive on its own, but... I mean, specializing exists, and also I can make rare powers that just aren't all that useful in combat, so..?"

"Fair enough," Dad said, nodding. "When I negotiate your contract... Do you want to keep some of your charges in reserve for your own use, whatever that happens to be?"

I thought about it. On the one hand, saving up for emergencies was a good idea.

On the other hand, I had two million words of proof that I can't be trusted with good ideas.

On the  _ third _ hand, this wasn't  _ my _ good idea, this was  _ Dad's _ good idea.

"I don't know," I said. "I'll trust your judgement on this one."

"If you say so," Dad said. "Let's have lunch, and then we'll head over to the PRT building, sound good?"

"Sounds good to me," I said, nodding.


	4. Chapter 4

Armsmaster listened carefully as I explained my power to him. When I finished, he nodded carefully and slowly.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Do you need someone to talk to?"

I blinked. That... wasn't what I was expecting. I was  _ kind of _ expecting him to be visibly impressed by my power-

Oh, right. Trigger events. Powers come from trauma. Which he should know very well, and... well, I guess it's standard procedure to ask those questions instead of saying 'very impressive.'

"I'm... doing okay now," I said, glancing at Dad. "I'm not alone." Dad couldn't keep the grin off his face, at that.

"Glad to hear it," Armsmaster said, nodding. "Well. There'll be some paperwork, some very intense meetings, a lot of bureaucratic complaining because, if what you're saying is completely true, we'll have to restructure how the PRT and Protectorate work to accommodate the new caste of trained PRT agents who have been given more-or-less standard-issue powers. It may take us a little while to get back to you on this. I hope that's not too much of an issue?"

"I don't think so, no," I said. "So, when do I meet the other Wards?"

"Only after you've signed your contract, I'm afraid," Armsmaster said. "Security protocols. You know how it is."

"That's fair," I said. Disappointing, but fair. That made a lot of sense, honestly. Guess it was kinda dumb of me to expect to just walk in off the street, say I have powers, and then be introduced to the rest of the Wards the same day.

"Is that all for today?" Dad asked.

"Power testing is quite standard as it stands, and there's no way the higher-ups won't insist on it here," Armsmaster said, nodding. "But that'll take time to arrange, given the special circumstances. Do you have a good phone number for us to call you at?"

"Yes, of course," Dad said, before picking up a pen off the desk and writing our home phone number down on a sticky note. "How long is this expected to take?"

"We've never handled a power quite like this before," Armsmaster said with a shrug. "Stop expecting. Start hoping."

Dad stared at him, flat and unamused.

"A month, at most," Armsmaster said. "Hopefully. I'd offer you a slot in the Protectorate-that would only take a week to go through- if it weren't for your daughter's power; chances are, you'll end up in the same department as the rest of the people she empowers." I winced a little; Dad's idea had kind of relied on being in the Protectorate, and yet here I was, crushing his dream already, just by proxy.

"Ah, well," Dad said quietly.

"Well," I interrupted. "His daughter was hospitalized- the only family he's got left. Who's to say he  _ didn't _ trigger naturally from that? Powers tend to run in families, right? That's what New Wave has demonstrated, if nothing else. Maybe I  _ didn't _ give him powers. Besides, he's not a PRT agent, he's a normal person who got powers after a really bad day. I think that means he belongs in the Protectorate, not with the  _ rest _ of the PRT, right?"

Dad inhaled slowly and deeply, and Armsmaster made a show of stroking his goatee thoughtfully.

"You make a convincing argument," Armsmaster said. "There's nothing I love more than lying to my boss for spurious reasons."  _ Crap. _ "But, I do recognize your point, and I'll make sure to bring up that you want your father in the Protectorate specifically. I'm sure that particular accommodation shouldn't be  _ too _ hard to get."

"Thank you, Armsmaster," Dad said. "If you'll call us back when it's time for testing, then I suppose that's all for today." Dad stood up, and I did the same. "It was nice meeting you. See you next time."

"Take care."

\---

"A whole  _ month," _ I repeated.

"Bureacracies move slowly," Dad said with a shrug, unlocking the front door and walking inside. "That's the problem with having so many people involved- they've all got other things they need to be doing, too, and trying to coordinate them is a nightmare. What  _ I  _ want to know is what you were  _ thinking _ with that stunt you pulled."

"...Mostly that I'd accidentally crushed your dream, and trying to fix it right then and there," I said nervously.

"Aw, Taylor," Dad said, turning and planting a gentle hand on my shoulder. "My dreams were already crushed years ago."

Hang on, I recognize this joke.

"How many years?" I asked.

"How old are you?" he asked, and then we both started laughing. "Just...  _ maybe _ don't try something like that again, okay?"

"I won't, promise," I said.

"Thank you."

"...Hey, can we get a cat?" I asked.

"A cat?" he repeated.

"You know, the little-"

"I know what a cat is, I'm just surprised you want one," he said.

"It feels lonely with just us," I said. "...Also, I kind of want to see if I can make one smart enough to talk."

"...I think, for the time being, I'm going to have to say  _ no," _ Dad said. "Nothing that you'd have to talk to an ethics committee about."

"So no giving laser eyes to squirrels?" I asked.

Dad closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and took a deep breath. "Oh, Christ preserve me..."

"I'm joking," I protested.

"Know your audience."

I groaned. "So what  _ should _ I do for a  _ month _ while the PRT waffles about what to do with me?"

"Well, while  _ I _ go and deal with the bureacracies,  _ you _ are going to be home-schooled by Kurt and Lacey."

"Can I give them powers to make them really good at teaching?"

"...Ask them for permission first."

"Works for me."


	5. Chapter 5

The PRT's power testing was fairly simple: they gave me a writeup of exactly the sort of power they wanted me to produce, and ten volunteers. I made the power to their specifications ten times, giving one copy to each volunteer, and then the volunteers went through their own specially designed power testing to make sure I'd given them exactly the power that was asked for. After that, they sent me home, saying they'd keep testing for a month to see how long the powers lasted, and then they'd get back to me.

In the meantime, though, I had to contend with Kurt and Lacey, who were cautiously optimistic about their powers at first, but took all of a day to warm up to them. It  _ also _ took about that long for me to regret that whole idea, because like an idiot, I'd given Lacey the ability to teach P.E. very well, and that ended with me unable to feel my legs, drinking the most horrid-tasting thing I'd ever put in my mouth- and that included, as of a week ago, a used tampon.

I'd told Lacey as much and she'd just laughed at me and said it wasn't her fault Dad didn't keep the spice rack stocked well enough.

After the first day, Kurt and Lacey continued stuffing my head and body full of knowledge and fitness. Lacey had drawn up a rigorous exercise schedule I was to follow  _ exactly, _ and Kurt had gotten his hands on a microphone and an old ipod and recorded bespoke lectures for me to listen to while jogging. In our downtime, Kurt mentioned that he was putting his power to good use elsewhere, too- Dad wasn't the only guy he knew with kids that needed tutoring, and some of the adults could use some help, too. Lacey, meanwhile, was becoming very popular at the local gym, and thinking of starting a free workout group for people who couldn't make it to the gym.

Three weeks in, over lunch, Lacey asked me how I felt I was doing, academically.

"I... don't know," I said. "Those two practice tests Kurt gave me this morning felt easy, but... maybe that was just a sign of how confidently stupid I was?"

"Taylor, I  _ told _ you you passed them with flying colors, didn't I?" Kurt said.

"Well, yes, but..." I trailed off, sighing.

"Might as well tell her," Lacey said.

"Tell me what?" I asked.

"Those were last year's standardized SAT and GED tests," Kurt said. "You, honey, are doing  _ just fine." _

"...Thanks," I said.

"No need, honey," Kurt said. "That? Was  _ all you." _

"But you taught me," I said.

"With powers  _ you gave us," _ Lacey countered. "Besides,  _ you _ put in the actual work. We just pushed you around for a few weeks."

"But-"

"C'mon, Taylor," Kurt said, patting me on the shoulder. "Be proud of yourself. The rest of us are."

It was heartwarming, it really was, but also pride goeth before the fall and the last fall was, again, being shot in the head.

"Don't want myself getting too big of a head, is all," I said, shaking the aforementioned head.

"Look, Tay," Lacey said. "Whatever those bitches at Winslow told you, it's a lie. You're awesome, and you deserve to believe that, too."

I  _ do _ believe that, that's the problem.

"I just- can we, table this?" I said. "For some other time?"

"...I'm sorry I pushed," Lacey said.

"Sorry, hon," Kurt added.

"It's fine, just." I swallowed.

\---

"So, what's the verdict?" I asked.

"According to testing, these powers do not appreciably fade after one month's time away from you," Armsmaster said. "We'll have to transfer those agents back from Anchorage sometime soon-"

"Isn't Anchorage in Alaska?" I asked, frowning.

"When I say away, I  _ really _ mean away," Armsmaster said with a slight grin. "At any rate! Your father's hashed out your contract pretty thoroughly, so I'll allow him to explain it to you."

"You're going to be receiving the standard Wards pay, and be transferred to Arcadia, which is where most of the Wards go already," Dad began, picking up the contract. "But, in recognition of your unique circumstances, you're going to be free of the majority of obligations most Wards have. That means no mandatory training or patrols, no mandatory PR appearances, and you even get final say over what your costume and cape name are."

"Huh," I said, trying to hide my nerves. I didn't  _ want _ any of that, I didn't  _ want _ people giving me special treatment. "I can still do all those things, right? If I want to?"

"Yeah, of course," Dad said. "...Well, except patrolling. Everyone was in agreement that sending you out on patrol was a bad idea that wouldn't accomplish anything."

I wasn't really sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, my loathing of my other self- of Skitter- was strong enough to make me feel bad about anything at all that could inflate my ego or otherwise make me feel like I was special, which I was terrified would lead down a dark, dangerous path.

On the other hand, I had already more-or-less resolved to listen to authority figures even when I think they're wrong, and  _ also, _ "not going on patrols" sounded like a simple and straightforward way to keep myself from getting accustomed to doing violence to people, and using it to solve problems.

"...I think I can live with that," I said with a weak smile. "What  _ do _ I have to do?"

"Your father has informed us of your 'charges,'" Armsmaster said. "Five per day, every day? Is there a  _ limit _ you've noticed to how many you can store?"

"Whatever that limit is, it's bigger than a hundred and fifty," I said.

"Excellent. Contractually, you're obligated to use four of those five as the PRT sees fit, retaining the remaining fifth for your own personal use," Armsmaster elaborated. "At the moment, the PRT's purpose is that, once per month, you will  _ dis _ charge all of the charges you owe us on the creation of a standard-issue healing power; it was decided that this was what we needed a large supply of most desperately, and we've consulted multiple medical experts on what they need to cover the gaps."

"That sounds pretty reasonable to me," I said. "Is that it?"

"That's the summary, yes," Armsmaster said. "The details are  _ very _ voluminous."

"I got a place in the Protectorate already, Taylor, don't worry," Dad added.

I nodded. "...So, where do I sign?"


	6. Chapter 6

The specifications were tricky to understand at first, until Kurt took a look at it and then explained it to me, but once I'd made that healing power a hundred times, I was pretty sure I had it down pat.

"Alright, that's the last one," Armsmaster said. "Good work, Patron." It was my new cape name. Not exactly great, but since I wouldn't really be doing much public-facing work, it suited me just fine.

"Thank you," I said.

"Now, for the moment you've been waiting so long for," Armsmaster said as the last agent filed out. "Ready to meet the Wards?"

"It's noon on a weekday," I pointed out. "Won't they still be in school?"

"Only some of them," Armsmaster said. "Arcadia does a system where some students, with internships or apprenticeships or other part-time jobs, can take half-days and leave at lunch. Naturally, all the Wards there take advantage of this. You have the option to as well, if you'd like."

"I won't object to less school," I said. "Well... lead the way."

\---

"Oh hey, another girl, nice," Triumph said. "It was starting to feel like a real sausage fest around here."

"Um. Hi," I said, blinking a bit behind my mask.

"Tri, you can't just  _ say _ shit like that to people," Clockblocker said, before turning to face me. "Please ignore our glorious leader, Tryhard. He's not very smart."

"I've been to actual sausage festivals, and they had  _ way _ more women present than the Wards," Gallant added. "They also taught me a lot of German words for people I don't like, such as  _ knackwurst." _

"Okay, I'll bite," Kid Win said. "What does  _ that _ one mean?"

"A short, fat weiner."

"...I know who I'm calling a knackwurst next time I see them."

"We all do, Kid," Gallant said solemnly. "We all do."

**"Anyhow,"** Triumph said loudly enough that it bowled Clockblocker over. "Oh shit, I'm  _ so _ sorry, I didn't mean to use my power like that."

"Ow," Clockblocker said quietly, laying on the floor.

"...He'll live," Triumph said, standing up from his chair and taking his mask off. "I'm Rory Christner. The mayor's son. Nice to meet you."

"Taylor Hebert," I said, taking my own mask off. "My dad yells at yours about the ferry, I've heard."

"H-hey now," he said, suddenly nervous. "I-I don't have any influence over that, I swear!"

"You sure about that?" I asked, feigning a serious look on my face. "Hmph. Not worth my time." Then I turned to Gallant and Kid Win, who seemed to be fiddling with electronic parts. "So what about you two?"

"I'm Chris Park," Kid Win said, raising his hand. "I'm using my HUD to do math for me, right now, so I can't unmask at the moment."

"I'm Dean Stansfield," Gallant said. "I'm afraid of this thing exploding in my face, so..."

"Re _ lax, _ none of these capacitors have more than fifty puffs, the worst you'll get is startled," Kid Win said.

"Puffs?" Clockblocker asked, getting up. "Are you kids doing The Drugs?"

"It's short for picofarad, you illiterate goon," Kid Win said. "It's a unit of measurement for capacitors."

"I know what pico is," I said. "Exactly how big is a farad that you work in  _ pico _ -farads enough to have slang for it?"

"A conventional one-farad capacitor is the size of your forearm," Gallant said.

"Oh jesus."

"Also, it's way overkill for a custom flashing birthday card," Kid Win said. "Which, for some reason, I am helping Dean make."

"Hey, maintaining good relations with New Wave is important," Gallant said. "Wait, don't bridge tho-"

A capacitor exploded, and Kid Win yelped, before spitting on the table. "Oh god, it went in my mouth!"

"...So anyways, I'm Dennis Jones," Clockblocker said, pulling off his own helmet. "Nice to meet you. Aegis is in the shower, taking his sweet-ass time, so he'll be out whenever."

"It's been nice to meet you all," I said. "I'm Patron in-costume, and my power is that I can give other people powers."

"...Are you okay?" Triumph asked. "Do you need someone to talk to?"

"Why does everyone keep asking that?" I asked.

"Standard PRT protocol," Gallant explained, disconnecting the electronics from their power supply. "We're not supposed to compliment someone for having a strong or impressive power- instead what we're supposed to say is 'are you okay, do you need someone to talk to.' It's because... well, trigger events."

"I figured, but..." I trailed off. I didn't want them to feel like they had to walk on eggshells around me, but how could I communicate that? "...So, here's a hypothetical. What is the dumbest superpower you could possibly think of?"

"Shouting really loud," Clockblocker said.

"I  _ said _ I was  _ sorry!" _ Triumph protested.

"Super strength but only when opening glass jars," Kid Win said, from the sink, where he was trying to rinse capacitor out of his mouth.

"That was  _ one time, _ when are you going to let that go?" Gallant protested.

"When it stops being funny, so, never," Kid Win said.

"What's going on?" Aegis asked, stepping into the main room in full costume.

"This is the new girl, Patron, who gives other people superpowers," Clockblocker said. "She wants to know what the dumbest possible superpower would be."

"Hi, I'm Carlos," Aegis said, taking his mask off. "Dumbest possible superpower... The ability to pee molten metal, but without being fireproof."

I cringed, and so did everyone else in the room.

"You win," I said.

"If the prize is the superpower I just described, can I pick someone besides me to get it?" Aegis asked.

"The prize is shame at having said that," I said.

"Aw, man," Aegis said. "But I lost my ability to feel shame two months ago, and it hasn't grown back yet."

I sighed contentedly. Yep. I think I made the right decision, here.


	7. Chapter 7

"-and then the talent agent said, that's a hell of a show you've got there, what do you call that act?" Vista("My name is Missy, but call me Vista") said. "And the father said, the Aristocrats!"

An alarm went off.

"Oh no, the PC Police are real, and they're coming for you!" Triumph cried.

"Alright, knock it off," Dean said.

"The part where he's pretending the mask warning is the police, or the part where he said PC unironically?" Dennis asked.

"Yes."

The door opened, and in walked Shadow Stalker, wh-

Oh.

_ Oh fuck. _

Oh  _ god _ oh  _ fuck _ I'd  _ fucking _ forgotten about  _ fucking _ Shadow Stalker oh no no no no no

"...Hebert," Sophia said quietly, frozen in her tracks. "Wasn't expecting to see  _ you _ here. Thought you died."

"Hi Sophia," I said. "You mind if we have a little  _ private chat, _ somewhere else?"

"You two know each other?" Dean asked cautiously. He could see emotions, so he probably knew exactly what was going on.

"From Winslow, yeah," I said, standing up. "We're pretty familiar."

Sophia headed for one of the side hallways leading away from the central room, and I followed after her, steeling my nerves. Once we were in the workout room, I reached out, grabbed her power, and  _ yanked. _ I'd never moved powers between people before, and I wasn't sure if it'd work, but apparently it did, and now  _ I _ had her power, not her.

Which was great, because the moment the door was closed she took a swing at me, and I just phased through it and behind her, reforming and kicking her in the small of her back.

"What the-" she said, catching herself on the door and turning around. "Wh- My power! You bitch, what did you-"

"I took it away, because you can't behave," I said, before phasing in and out where she could see me, with those shocked, widening eyes. "That's my thing, Sophia- I control powers. I give them out, and I take them away." I phased in and out again as she tried and failed to tackle me, and grinned as she fell on the floor and cried out in frustration. "But hey! I'm not  _ completely _ unreasonable. Maybe I  _ won't _ take away your power  _ forever- _ the  _ one thing _ you've got going for you, that makes you special. Maybe I'll let you keep your place in the Wards." I knelt down beside her, a dark part of me relishing in her helplessness.  _ I _ was the big fish now, and there was  _ nothing she could do about it. _ "You wanna know  _ what _ you've gotta do to get it back, though?"

_ "What?" _ she choked out, on the verge of tears, starting to realize that not only was the shoe on the other foot, that foot was going straight up her ass.

"Tell me you're sorry for what you've done, and promise it'll never happen again," I whispered in her ear. "Tell me you're sorry, and convince me you mean it."

Sophia left the verge, and plunged straight into a sobbing mess. "I'm  _ sorry! _ I'm sorry I shoved you into that  _ goddamn _ locker! I swear, I'll never do it again, just- please!  _ Please! _ I  _ need _ my power back, you can't  _ do _ this to me-"

"Good enough," I said with a shrug, standing up and giving her her power back. "Just remember, though- you only get to keep it if you behave."

She didn't respond, and just kept crying on the floor.

As I left her alone... I wasn't sure I was feeling much better about that.

\---

I threw up in the toilet. It turns out, when you spend a month stressing yourself out over never wanting to be anything like the cruel warlord you turned out to be in another life, and then you deliberately threaten a girl's livelihood and bully her to tears so you can extract concessions from her?  _ You feel bad about it. _ Even when you think she deserved it-  _ especially _ when you think she deserved it.

God, why couldn't I have, I don't know, told my  _ fucking _ dad about the  _ fucking _ bullying so he would know what was happening, and maybe during the contract negotiations he could say "oh hey by the way Shadow Stalker's been bullying Taylor so transferring her to another city or alternatively juvie is a requirement if you want Taylor to work for you" or something like that, or do something,  _ anything, _ to handle the situation like an actual fucking  _ adult, _ but  _ noooooo, _ I had to  _ forget about what put me in the hospital _ until I was  _ face to face with it _ and I fell back on what were, apparently, a  _ warlord's _ instincts!

What kind of awful, fucked up person  _ am _ I?

Dean knocked on the door- I could feel his power. "Taylor? Taylor, it's okay. We're not mad at you. None of us like Shadow Stalker either-"

I threw up again. I didn't just bully Sophia, I bullied a girl whose coworkers don't like her, whose, whose only friend is _Emma!_ Fucking _Emma!_ _I_ was once friends with Emma, and look at me now!

"Okay, that was the wrong thing to say apparently. Can I come in?"

"Go away or I'll barf on your shoes!" I yelled.

"...Okay, Taylor, see you later."

He walked off, and I just knelt there, in front of the toilet, trying in vain to hold back tears.

It took a while, but eventually, I wiped my eyes, flushed the toilet, and went home.


	8. Chapter 8

"So," Armsmaster said, fingers steepled as he sat behind a desk in full power armor. "Sophia Hess has been bullying you at Winslow, and is in fact responsible for your trigger event."

"...More or less," I said quietly, looking away.

"And I suppose this didn't come up because you find revenge distasteful?" Armsmaster asked.

"You... could say that," I said.

"And what  _ else _ could I say, that might be more accurate?" Armsmaster asked.

"...I spent a month away from school, thinking about  _ anything _ else, and she just... slipped my mind," I said as quietly as I could without whispering.

"Mmn." He sighed profoundly. "Well. I wish you'd told me  _ sooner, _ but rest assured, we  _ will _ be solving this problem for you. Shadow Stalker is already on probation, and the news that she bullied someone into a trigger event is more than enough to violate the terms of said probation. She'll be out of  _ everyone's _ collective hair by the end of the week. Except, of course, for the Warden's."

"Thank God for that at least," Dad said, as I started panicking. They were sending her to  _ jail _ over this?! What the  _ fuck?! _ All she did was shove me into a mildly filthy locker! It wasn't even fermented or moldy or anything, it was just covered in dried blood!

"Whoa whoa whoa," I said hastily, lifting my head back up. "That's- that's a pretty big step to take, don't you think?"

"I think a lot of things, but I don't think  _ that," _ Armsmaster said. "The news that Shadow Stalker gave someone a Trigger Event is upsetting, to be certain, but it is not  _ surprising. _ She's been a dangerous malcontent this entire time, and quite frankly, she's never been a  _ hero, _ just a violent sociopath who likes hurting people, and sometimes happens to hurt the  _ right _ people. So unless you have a compelling reason  _ why _ she should be kept on hand, where she'll continue antagonizing the rest of her coworkers and the general public..."

"Because..."

Because  _ why? _ I mean, Armsmaster had a point- getting rid of Sophia wasn't  _ just _ about me. It was about  _ everyone _ she'd hurt, and I was just the final straw, in addition to the golden goose.

"Because, you can't just waste a cape willing to play ball with the Protectorate like that," I said.

"Two points: one, clearly she was  _ not _ willing to play ball with the Protectorate, considering your situation," Armsmaster said. "And two,  _ also _ considering your situation... yes we can. We now can get a hundred and twenty trained, loyal, and largely untraumatized capes a month, thanks to you. But, go ahead, try again. I'm interested to see where you're going with this."

"Taylor?" Dad asked, concern audibly dripping from just that one word.

"I just..." I sighed, trying to collect myself.

Armsmaster finally lowered his hands. "Nevermind. Watching you tie yourself in knots simply painful. Taylor- may I call you Taylor?"

"Go ahead."

_ "Why _ are you defending Sophia, here?" Armsmaster asked. "She's clearly made herself unpopular with your peers and superiors, and has  _ personally _ done  _ you _ a great deal of harm. What...  _ possible _ motivation is driving you to defend her, here?"

"I..." I sighed, letting my head fall. "...When I got shoved into that locker, I... saw something. My life, from a few months after that locker to a few years down the line. The road I followed from well-meaning vigilante to vicious supervillain crimelord, to one of the world's greatest monsters... I saw that, and how I let myself be led along that path, thinking all the while that it wasn't really  _ my _ fault, I was just reacting to adverse circumstances... but really, it was. That was... that was all me." I took a deep breath to try and calm myself. "And so, I resolved to make different choices, and... to not do anything that seemed like something the other me would've done." I swallowed. "Like get Sophia thrown in juvie."

Armsmaster hummed thoughtfully, looking me over.

"This future sight of yours," Armsmaster began.

"It's  _ very _ patchy, and focused primarily on a pair of time periods that I've already thoroughly derailed," I said, shaking my head. "It's... not going to be any use to you. The only  _ useful _ thing I learned from it was that I couldn't be trusted with power."

"...Very well," he said with a sigh. "We'll discuss this more later, but for now... You'll get your wish. Shadow Stalker gets to stay... but I'm taking her off patrols, and changing her schedule so she's  _ never _ in the same building as you at the same time. She'll also be receiving  _ more _ mandatory counseling, and on the thinnest possible ice." He shook his head. "Urgh. Well, Patron, I hope you're pleased with yourself. You just turned an open-and-shut case into a long series of protracted meetings."

"Nobody's going to jail," I said with a shrug. "I'm about as pleased as I can be under the circumstances."

Armsmaster sighed, and stood up. "Well. I think we're done here. Take care, and try not to stumble onto any  _ more _ internal rot and corruption you forgot to tell me about."

"I make no promises."

"Out of my office, brat."

I grinned, and he just sighed and shook his head.


	9. Interlude 1: Sophia

Sophia sat on the couch and she stewed in silence. The shrink, at least, had the decency to quit prying.

'What's bothering you?' As if that wasn't completely  _ fucking _ obvious.

It was  _ fucking _ Hebert, obviously. A year or so of pushing her around and watching her squirm, and then suddenly  _ bam, _ that worm turns and turns out to be a fucking  _ snake, _ and  _ now _ Sophia's got a  _ fucking _ cobra wrapped around her leg, and she's just gotta  _ grin and bear it, _ or else she gets bit and  _ dies. _

Hebert had put her foot down, and  _ insisted _ on keeping Sophia around. She wasn't told why, but she wasn't  _ stupid, _ and it wasn't like there were all that many possible explanations  _ why. _ Hell, Hebert had made it pretty clear, with her fucking  _ monologue, _ and making Sophia  _ beg _ for her power back. The shoe was on the other foot now, and Hebert wanted to  _ savor _ kicking Sophia with it. She wanted a nice, convenient chew toy. And fuck her running if it didn't  _ work- _ Hebert got her way, and Sophia was stuck here in Brockton Bay, and she could either go to jail or be Hebert's little bitch.

Sophia hummed thoughtfully, thinking about the situation. Things she could do. How she could try and turn the tables on that smug, wide-mouthed, four-eyed, gangly, Kermit-The-Frog-looking bitch. It wouldn't be easy- Taylor had a power that countries would, honestly, go to  _ war _ over, and Sophia was... hard to kill and could walk through walls. The PRT was in love with Taylor, and Sophia could eat shit and die for all they cared. Besides, she'd been on thin ice already, before this mess- her institutional support was, quite frankly, negative.

So what could she do? Run away? Yeah, and then get hunted down and caught by a teleporter paired up with a Thinker, made-to-order by Hebert to keep her new bitch on a tight leash.

Go villain? With  _ who? _ The only major players in this town these days were the skinheads, who obviously wouldn't be a particularly safe harbor for a black girl, the ABB, who were all-Asian and therefore  _ still _ probably wouldn't take her in, and Faultline's Crew, who made a careful policy of not pissing off the local Protectorate anymore than they had to, and thus again, would not take her in.

"Is something the m-" the shrink began.

"Shut up, I'm thinking," Sophia snapped.

What  _ were _ her real choices here? And what did she want?

Well, she wanted to be out from under Hebert's thumb. She'd been someone's favorite punching bag before, and wasn't keen to repeat the experience.

And that made the choice so obvious, didn't it? And it  _ was _ a choice- whatever happened next, she  _ chose _ this. She grinned.

"Alright," Sophia said, nodding. "I think I got my head on straight now. Thanks, Doc." She stood up, and, ignoring the shrink's protests, wrapped the man around her fist, then wrapped him up in his own tie, before walking through the wall and heading off on her merry little way.

\---

The upside of being a relatively recent recruit was that nobody recognized her face. She was thoroughly anonymous as she walked, out of costume, through the PRT building, generally going wherever the hell she pleased without anyone so much as giving her a second glance. Just act like you're supposed to be there, and everyone'll assume it's the truth.

She thought back on the PRT's threat rating for her. Stranger 2. She snorted quietly. A girl who could turn into shadows and walk through walls, and she was only a Stranger  _ 2? _ Wasn't  _ that _ a fucking riot. She let them underestimate her, though, and kept on walking, retrieving one of her hand-crossbows from lockup and stuffing it inside her jacket. Nice and conveniently concealable, so she wouldn't have to pick up the pace and spoil her cover.

Sophia mentally reviewed her list, thinking about who around here had most recently pissed her off. That consultant motherfucker, Tom Calvert- he'd taken the last donut from the break room, and then grinned cruelly at Sophia when she'd come in for one, popping the last of it in his mouth.

Fuck that guy.

She made her way to his office, grinning as, finally, the all-hands alarm started to blare. She broke into a run, glad she'd thought to filch a clipboard along the way, and made it just in time for Calvert to step out of the bathroom across the hall from his office.

"Hello, Tom," Sophia said, grinning.

"...Do I know you?" he asked, playing dumb.

"This is for taking the last donut from the break room," she said, pulling her crossbow and savoring the look of panic that bloomed on his face... up until it became a look of pain as she shot him in the dick.

She let the crossbow drop from her hand, and cackled loudly as PRT agents rushed in with containment foam sprayers. She didn't stop until  _ long _ after they hauled her off to the holding cells down below.

\---

Sophia grinned, hands behind her head as she lounged luxuriantly on her standard-issue prison bed. This was it.  _ She won. _ She was out from under Hebert's thumb, and there wasn't a  _ goddamn _ thing Hebert could do about it. Not a  _ single _ fucking thing.

She  _ won. _


	10. Chapter 10

"Assault, I need your help."

Assault picked up the remote, pausing whatever was on the big-screen TV in the lounge, and turned to look at me. "What's up?"

"I- hang on, what are you- are you watching  _ Yugioh?" _ I asked.

"I have extremely sophisticated tastes," he said primly. "I  _ also _ like cartoons and card games, and also motorcycles."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, this is 5D's, the one where they play card games on motorcycles," Assault said. "But I'm  _ guessing _ you didn't need my help deciding what to watch."

"Right, right, sorry, I got distracted," I said, shaking my head. "I... Look. It's kind of..." I blinked for a moment. "Actually, hang on. You mind if I give you the power to never be overheard unless you want to be?"

"Will that interfere with my current powers?" Assault asked.

"I can't think of why it should," I said. "Besides, I can fix them afterwards, if they  _ do _ break."

"Alright, well..." Assault shrugged. "Go ahead. Lay it on me."

"It's about Shadow Stalker," I said, giving him the power.

"She's  _ already _ in jail, how much more revenge do you  _ want?" _ Assault asked.

"What? No! I argued  _ against _ sending her to jail!" I said. "Yeah, what she did to me was fucked up, but not the sort of thing that deserves fucking  _ jail time!" _

"And her shooting Thomas Calvert in the dick..."

"Bullshit," I said, although that name  _ did  _ sound familiar to me... "I don't buy it. There's no conceivable motive for that. She's a shitty, traumatized teen, not a fucking serial killer." I took a deep breath. "And that's why I came to you,  _ Madcap. _ She's in jail. I think she shouldn't be. Name your price."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"...Alright, fine," he said. "I'll help you get her out of jail... on two conditions. One, you give me another accessory power."

"Which one?"

"I want the ability to subconsciously make holographic projections representing whatever trading card game I happen to be playing at the time," Assault said. "And my second condition is, you're going to have to  _ beat _ me at a trading card game. I'd prefer Yugioh if it's all the same to you, but I'm flexible on the matter."

"...Deal," I said, spending another charge and giving him the requested power. Then, I had an idea, and spent a third charge, giving  _ myself _ the power to always win at kids' games.

\---

"Alright, rock paper scissors to see who goes first," Assault said, setting his deck down on the silicone mat- I'd produced my own deck from a back pocket I'm reasonably sure had been empty two minutes ago. "Paper beats rock... You win. You wanna go first?"

"Is that not a given?" I asked.

"Sometimes you want to see what your opponent's trying to do before you go yourself," Assault said with a shrug.

"...I'm still going first," I said, my new game-winning power urging me to do so. "Draw six cards, right?"

"Yep," Assault said, nodding.

"Okay..." I pulled six cards off the top of the deck, and scanned them carefully. "Pot of Greed, draw two cards."

"Oh no," Assault muttered as a big green pot with a big mean grin appeared between us, two cards coming out of the top.

"Another two Pots of Greed, draw  _ four _ cards," I said.

"You're a demon," Assault said.

"I'm not done," I said, picking five particular cards out of my hand of nine, before turning them around for Assault to behold. "Exodia. I win."

A hologram of a big muscley monster-man with vaguely ancient-egyptian-ish accents appeared, and smacked Assault in the face- which he was too perturbed to play along with. Then the holograms dissolved away, and he sighed.

"Well, there goes that plan," he said.

"The plan to not help me?" I asked.

"No, the plan to cool your heels and your head by getting your mind off of things for a little while, and then share an alternative plan with you," Assault said. "Look, Patron. I get it, this is upsetting, but I'm not going to break Shadow Stalker out of jail for you. I ain't like that no more, it turns out."

"But-" I said.

"I  _ did _ say I'd help you get her out of jail, and I  _ am _ going to stick by that," Assault continued. "But not illegally. I mean... really, what happens  _ after _ we break her out, huh? Where was she supposed to  _ go?" _

"I... hadn't thought that far ahead," I admitted.

"So here's what we're gonna do instead," Assault said. "See, she's in  _ jail, _ not in  _ prison. _ Meaning, she's still on trial. And they're still in the discovery phase- meaning, they're looking for all the evidence that'd determine if she's guilty or innocent."

"And  _ further _ meaning that if I can turn up evidence that she's innocent..."

"Then this is the  _ ideal _ time to present that, exonerate her, and get her out of jail," Assault said.

"I think I have a plan now," I said, nodding. "Thomas Calvert... that was the guy she shot, right? It sounds familiar..."

"Is your plan better than the last one?" Assault asked.

"I have no idea," I said. "It's probably less illegal, though."

"That's... Y'know what, good enough," Assault said. "Go talk it over with your dad, and don't say anything that could implicate me. If anyone asks, I had nothing to do with this."

"Will do," I said. "Bye!"


End file.
